


A Jog

by lrose20



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, crackish, phone call blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrose20/pseuds/lrose20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gets back at Sherlock in a rather unconventional manner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Jog

The phone rang three or four times before Sherlock finally picked up, to Lestrade’s relief. Sherlock was always ignoring his phone and Lestrade had gotten used to either not being answered at all, or John being the one to answer the phone. However, it was Sherlock who answered this time, with a curt, “Lestrade. What mess have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Sherlock, I think you’re going to like this one.You always do enjoy the weird ones,” Lestrade told him, shaking his head. 

“That’s...me,” Sherlock’s voice hitched, and Lestrade arched a brow. 

“Sherlock, are you alright?”

“Of course I am!” The consulting detective retorted. “Perfectly fine, Lessstrade.” 

Lestrade’s brow now furrowed at the way the s in his name was drawn out, but he didn’t bother to question it. He was too used to Sherlock to find much of anything he did weird anymore.

“Right, well, good. There was this clown, you see.”

“A clo-owwn? I said weird, Lestrade, not unimaginative.”

“Would you shut up and listen? The clown’s dead.”

“Really? Imagine that.” 

Lestrade ignored the sarcasm, plowing on.  
“Yes, Sherlock. There were traces of something odd found in him, and the only thing he had in his pockets was a golf ball and some matches.”

“Sounds like a jolly good time at the ahhh!”

“The ahh?” Lestrade repeated, wincing as static crackled in his ear for a moment.

When the static cleared, Sherlock sounded as though he was panting. “Sherlock, are you quite sure you’re alright?”

“Fine, fine,” the detective growled breathlessly. “I’m...going on a jog.”

“A jog? Are you chasing someone while you’re on the phone with me?”

“Noooo.Just fancied a really long jog.”

“Sherlock, you don’t jog.”

“I was bored. Time to pick up a new- Christ!” Sherlock exclaimed, making Lestrade yank the phone away from his ear.

“Sherlock, are you alright? Sherlock!”

A moment later, Sherlock replied in a astoundingly hoarse voice. “I am fine. I’ll be there in an hour.” And with that the phone call ended, leaving Lestrade to chalk it up as yet another bizarre conversation with the ever bizarre Sherlock Holmes.

Said detective had shut his phone and was now glaring down at a very smug looking doctor, who licked his lips tauntingly and zipped up Sherlock’s trousers for him.   
“There, we’re even,” Sherlock growled in a low, dangerous voice. “If you ever do that again...well, you don’t want to know what I’ll do.”

John’s smirk simply widened, and he patted Sherlock’s thigh as he stood.   
“Yes, my dear jogger.”


End file.
